Waking Up Alone
by odishon
Summary: Sequel to Sticky - sorta. Can be read as a oneshot.


_**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**_

_**Author's Note: This was original written to follow up "Sticky" but it can be read as a stand-alone.**_

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He woke up alone.

That wasn't a problem. He was used to waking up alone in an empty house. He was used to being alone. But he hadn't fallen asleep unaccompanied and now he was alone.

He looked around for any sign of her; a note or something to explain her absence. There was none.

Throwing back the blanket, he hunted about for a pair of pants. Spotting some rumpled jeans on the floor, he yanked them on.

He strolled down the hall to where the phone and answering machine rested. There were three missed calls. He hit the play back button.

The first message was the principal complaining about his attendance record and was requesting that "_the parent or guardian of the household please give the office a call_" because the matter was urgent. He had to laugh at that one. As if the principal or anyone else cared whether or not he showed up to school. He was passing his classes, no matter narrowly, that's all that mattered.

The second message was from Argit – of all associates to contact him. He had a real sweet deal but it was going to take a little donation on Kevin's part to see it through. As if he'd fall for that one. The damn rat must be desperate.

The third was a campaign ad. Vote for politician friggin' something-or-other and all your problems would magically be solved.

He erased all the messages.

Wandering into the bathroom, he splashed some cool water onto his face. Wiping his face off with his arm, he caught sight of his reflection. He looked awful. His skin appeared sallow and there were dark circles under his eyes that hooded his gaze more than usual. Starring absentmindedly at his appearance, he listened to the _plink_, _plink_, _plink_ of the leaking sink faucet.

_Maybe she hates me_.

He often pondered why a girl as beautiful as her would want to be with him. It wasn't like he was much to look at – there were plenty better. Not to say he was terrible looking either. He definitely had the whole bad-boy charm that chicks seemed to love. But not her. Sure it might earn him a second glance, but to have the kind of attention he was getting from her, she would need something more – not just be a pretty face.

Substance. Something he was in abundant lack of and very much aware of it. He wasn't headed anywhere big, not like her or her cousin. Lazily traced the edge of his reflection in the mirror with a finger, he continued to brood. As much as he hated to admit it, in the future, they'd probably be recognized across the galaxy. The only thing history would remember him as some nobody who'd slipped through the cracks.

Truth be told, he was amazed that he hadn't wound up in the gutter long ago. If they hadn't given him a second chance, if she hadn't been there to keep him straight…

He shook himself out of his thoughts. Getting way too depressing.

He'd find a shirt and then find a party to crash. Or he'd drive down to Los Soledad and see if there was anyone to race with. Or he just _might_ look up Argit for old times sake…

The shrill ringing of the telephone brought him from his current contemplations.

He went back out to the hallway and picked up the phone.

"Yeah?"

"Kevin…" an apprehensive female voice was on the other end. "It's Gwen."

"Oh, hey." Nothing special in the words, but just the sound of her voice sent his blood pumping and the loneliness ebbing away.

"Sorry, I didn't leave a note or anything," she babbled. "It's not that I wasn't going to. I meant to. Leave a note that is…"

As he listened to her ramble on, the dark cloud that'd been hanging overhead slowly evaporated.

_I love you. I miss you when you're not next to me. I wish I could wake up next to your warmth everyday for the rest of my life._

The words played in his head but never passed his lips.

"…do you think?" Gwen ended her chatter, waiting for his answer.

"Yeah," he responded automatically not really knowing what he was agreeing to.

He yawned absently, surprised to realize he was still drowsy.

"Are you tired?"

"Not really." A lie.

"Oh. So… um…" There was a long awkward pause.

He shut his eyes, just enjoying hearing her steady breathes at the other end. It almost felt like she was there in the room with him. He could picture her clearly. She'd be curled up, knees tucked under her, either lounging on her bed or the couch – it depended who was home with her. She was probably twirling back that one piece of hair she liked to play with, while cradling the phone in the crook of her neck.

He wished that he could think of something to say to prolong the conversation. Or she would.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure. Later." He hung up. What else could he do really? He didn't have the courage to say what was actually on his mind.

Walking through another door, he flopped onto his unmade bed and stared at the ceiling still digesting the warmth their conversation had left.

Maybe tomorrow he'd get his mouth and mind to cooperate and tell her his feelings. He flipped over on his side and pulled the covers over himself.

It'd be something to look forwards to anyway.

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_**I hope this makes up for disappointed readers.**_

_**Please review.**_


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